


Satori's Unsettlement

by theartisticfool



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Twins, Blind Character, Blood and Gore, Child Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Organs, Past Child Abuse, Past Lives, Past Tense, Psychic Abilities, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartisticfool/pseuds/theartisticfool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he could kill them, then he would have done it. For now, he could only scream with rage, and wish it all away. AU, set in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satori's Unsettlement

**Satori’s Unsettlement**

He really had no business with them. He would have left, had he been given the option. It didn’t matter that he had nowhere to go, he just wanted to be away from this place. But no, the doctors wouldn’t even let him out of his room. They couldn’t afford for their precious experiment to escape.

The young blond boy paced, back and forth, in the small white corridor. Tables and medical equipment were thrust to the walls of the sickly room, tools such as scalpels and needles scattered along the floor. The soles of the boy’s feet were riddled with fresh gashes from the blades on the blood-soaked tiles, having made no attempt to avoid them as he strode from one end of the room to the other. The pools of crimson rippled as he walked, the wires connected to his heart, head, and wrists dragging through the liquid behind him. On occasion, he scratched lightly at the bandages covering his ocular cavities; he could get his eye sockets to bleed if he scraped at the right spots. His once-white hospital gown was blotched with old bloodstains. His body overall was thin, and weak, but he didn’t seem to be affected by it. He adjusted his headband and continued pacing.

The blind youth, only about five years old, muttered incoherent phrases under his breath, some concerning revenge, some of lust, others of remorse. A man, perhaps in his twenties, trembled in a corner, a wound in his chest profusely spurting gore. The boy stopped, and turned to face the man, his heart suspended in front of him by veins, tubes, and fleshy wires extending from a crater in his chest. An eye embedded within the organ blinked as it scanned the cowering figure.

“I know you’re there...” the blind boy murmured, retrieving a scalpel from the floor. He hardly flinched as his fingertips split open with the rough contact with the blade. He held it in front of his own face, as if examining it, then dropped it, having already lost interest. He continued to pace restlessly.

“A-Amai,” the young man stuttered, “please c-calm down...”

Amai screamed and struck the closest wall, the surface cracking from the energy emitted by his heart’s eye. “You attempt to coax me into decompressing, and yet your form is visibly shivering with trepidation,” he spat. He paused, as if contemplating the man’s words. “...at least I’ve succeeded to teach you to refer to me by my birth name, as opposed to a number. Perhaps you foolish humans aren’t as imbecilic as I had previously led myself to believe.

“But furthermore,” he continued, “you appear to find the thought of cozening me to be rather witty. What drollery you somehow invented by doing so, I am blind to, as I fail to perceive the enjoyment, and I detest your attempts in humouring yourself through a child’s naivety.”

A man dressed in a white lab coat over casual clothes charged into the room, wielding a syringe with a neon-coloured liquid inside. He was abruptly launched into the wall behind him with a mere jerk of Amai’s head. The corner of the boy’s mouth appeared to twitch, ever so slightly.

“Dead,” he monotonously remarked. He strode around the room, his eye briefly inspecting every object around him. He stopped occasionally, to pick something up, only to violently cast it aside in a seizure of wrath.

“As I was saying,” he muttered, his voice faltering, his pace accelerating, “you dare deny that your entire being is by far inferior to a single drop of my blood, and you dare try to suppress the knowledge by testing your ability to deceive.”

“Amai, I swear it wasn’t my fault!” The man in the corner burst into tears. “I would have stopped the injection if I could - if I had even known about it in the first place! You should have seen the look on my face when they tossed me his body and told me to burn it! You’re the kind who likes it when other people are confused, scared! I’m sure you would have smiled from it!”

More items, particularly sharper ones, were discarded onto the floor.

“The agony my brother...”

“I know,” the man squeaked. “I know, he was in pain, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Please, Amai, what would your brother think if he saw you now?”

The youth stopped. A single tear mingled with the blood on the tile. There was a deep, shallow breath, and the boy trudged over to one of the operating tables. He climbed up onto its surface, and lowered his frail body onto the freezing metal. His eye blinked slowly, resting in the gaping hole in his chest. The young man’s wound ceased to bleed, and quickly healed. He tried to utter a ‘thank you’ to the boy, but he couldn’t find the words.

“I believe you,” Amai whispered, “and I am sincerely sorry for what I forced you to observe. If practical, I implore you to omit the entire event.”

“I-I can do that,” the man said.

“Good evening, Sixx.”

“Good evening,” the young man replied. He flicked the lights, plunging Amai into complete darkness, and quickly scurried off. He grabbed a pencil and clipboard, and scribbled some notes down. He didn’t want to, but if there was any chance that he would be able to save the boy, then he would comply with his fellow doctors’ orders.

“Mentally ill,” he breathed, “condition is severe, will require medical treatment immediately. Sure, that’s what they’re expecting. Maybe I’ll get to do the injections, save the kid some unneeded strain. They don’t have to know if I didn’t do it...”

“Mr. Shadow, how is the patient?” a doctor asked. He glanced at the notes. “I see. I suppose I should prepare the doses for him.” Sixx gritted his teeth as the male turned away from him. He almost growled while the doctor called to the nurses.

“Arrange the drugs for Amai Atlas!”

A busty lady poked her head out of a doorframe. “You said Akai...?”

“No, no, no! Amai Atlas! Amai Jack Atlas! Akai is dead! What are you, an idiot?”

Sixx snatched a list off of a desk and started for the blind boy’s room again. He could only pity the poor satori; he could hardly imagine the mental trauma his involuntary mind-reading was inflicting upon him.

Poor, poor Amai.

* * *

 

**Please point out any errors; I’ll fix them as soon as I see them. If it’s an extra ‘u’, then shut up. I spell things with extra ‘u’s some time. Not a big deal.**

**In addition, this is also my first story uploaded to this site. Forgive me if there are any mistakes in the formatting or otherwise.  
**


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